


Dumbass: A Sequel

by zade



Series: That One Boss/Assistant AU [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bathing/Washing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Murphamy Week, they're both dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 08:40:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16405055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zade/pseuds/zade
Summary: They had bought a new mattress together when Murphy had complained about the old one.  So, pretty commitment-y on both sides, Bellamy thought.So Bellamy bought a ring.  Optimistic, maybe, but he loved Murphy in that gross, rom-com way, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him in horrifically mushy domestic bliss.  The issue was that since he had bought the ring, Murphy had been squirrely.  He still saw him every day at work, but more and more often Murphy found an excuse to go back to his own apartment.--for murphamyweek prompt: office au and also kiktober don't @ me





	Dumbass: A Sequel

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all it's been 3 years here's a sequel
> 
> literally all that's in this is some dumb angst and light sex
> 
> for murphamyweek office au, and kinktober bathing/lapdances, only i turned lapdances into lapsex bc it was easier
> 
> unbeta'd so feel free to point out my mistakes so that i might correct them!!!

The thing was, it was going well. They had been together for three years, all but living together for last two and a half, and Bellamy was the happiest he could remember being. Murphy hadn’t wanted to give up the apartment he had shared with Mbege and Bellamy didn’t begrudge him that, so he stayed there one or two nights a week and spent the rest in Bellamy’s bed.

Or, their bed, rather. They had bought a new mattress together when Murphy had complained about the old one. So, pretty commitment-y on both sides, Bellamy thought.

So Bellamy bought a ring. Optimistic, maybe, but he loved Murphy in that gross, rom-com way, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him in horrifically mushy domestic bliss. The issue was that since he had bought the ring, Murphy had been squirrely. He still saw him every day at work, but more and more often Murphy found an excuse to go back to his own apartment.

His first attempt at proposing had involved him tracking down a restaurant that had non-alcoholic champagne. Murphy still didn’t drink, but Bellamy wanted the feel of champagne, if not the buzz. He had made reservations, invited Murphy, only to be told Murphy had food poisoning. His next reservation was met with a cold, and the next with a twisted ankle.

At that point, Bellamy stopped making reservations ahead of time.

It was after three whole days of not seeing Murphy outside of work that Bellamy decided he had to act. Walking into work with an extra coffee for Clarke, he made a beeline straight for her desk. She wasn’t in yet, so he set up shop to wait for her, hovering awkwardly in front of her desk. Clarke was early as a rule, so she’d be in in the next five minutes or so. He wasn’t sure if Murphy had arrived yet, but he resisted the urge to check. Better talk to Clarke, first, since she knew everything that happened in their office and had about six times as much emotional capability as him.

Bellamy was pretty sure he had the emotional intelligence of a middle schooler, which was only impressive compared to Murphy, who had the emotional intelligence of a sock.

She didn’t look surprised when she saw him, so much as tired, sighing as she accepted the coffee bribe. “What’s wrong today, Bellamy?” she asked, shrugging off her coat and collapsing into her desk chair.

“John’s been ignoring me.” Bellamy still got a little thrill out of calling Murphy by his first name, even though it had been years. Octavia told him she thought it might be sign of brain damage. “Or not ignoring, necessarily, but avoiding. Canceling plans and staying at his place, and I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“I don’t have any info for you, but…” Clarke studied him closely for a moment, sipping her coffee. “What are you worried about?”

He hadn’t tried to put his fears into words before, but when Clarke asked, it came tumbling out of his mouth. “I’m worried he’s trying to break up with me.”

Clarke nodded. “I very much doubt that, but you could find out by talking to him. But let me guess: you’re planning on springing an engagement on him anyway, instead of talking to him like you’re both adults?”

Bellamy sighed, collapsing into the chair opposite hers. It would be so much easier to have become a monk, but now that he knew what being with John was like, there was no way he could choose anything else. “He’s not talking, even about normal boring stuff—maybe if I do surprise him it’ll shock him into conversation.”

“That’s not a completely terrible plan,” Clarke said mildly, “only slightly terrible.” She began unpacking her briefcase, which Bellamy thought was meant to indicate to him that his time was almost up. “If you already have a plan, why are you here?”

“For your blessing?” He shrugged, helplessly, and Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Fine, you idiots have my blessing. Take him to that sushi place—he likes it there.”

Bellamy nodded in thanks, bailing on her office and pulling up the restaurant to make a reservation. Murphy was just getting to his desk when Bellamy rounded the corner. He stopped at the desk, smiling, and rubbing his fingers anxiously on the ring box in his pocket. “Hey John,” he said softly, leaning his hip on the desk. “Missed you last night.”

“Sexual harassment,” Murphy said. He was smiling, but it seemed off a little. Bellamy stood up at once, not wanting to make Murphy uncomfortable, but confused because it wasn’t like they hadn’t talked that way at work for the last few years. “Kidding, asshole. What’s up?”

Bellamy gestured at his phone, anxiously. He hadn’t felt this out of sorts with Murphy since the very beginning. He felt like he was back in college, making dubious decisions like he was on a rollercoaster and completely unsure of how to get off. “I was thinking we could go to that sushi place you like? For lunch? Or—or, dinner, if that sounds better? I haven’t seen you in a while and I want to talk to you.”

Murphy paled. “No can do. See, my employer is a real hardass and he’s given me a lot of work this week—”

“None of which is immediate.” Bellamy sighed, putting his phone back into his pocket. It was hard to escape the feeling that Murphy was pulling away Maybe he really was stressed by the workload right now, though. “But it’s fine, if you don’t want to. I just miss seeing you, is all.”

Murphy nodded sharply, turning and booting up his monitor. “We’ll see.”

Bellamy’s day went downhill from there. Murphy disappeared during lunch, vanishing from his desk, and Bellamy felt too defeated to actually go anywhere to get food. He sat in his office and drank coffee until he was sure, for real this time, that he was burning a hole in his stomach, and eventually caved and ate a granola bar when Octavia came in and slammed one onto his desk. 

When he left his office, Murphy kept his head down, and Bellamy’s stomach sunk. 

Maybe, he thought, Murphy was trying to let him down easy. Or get Bellamy to break up with him. He wanted to cry, but he had instituted a strict No Crying At Work policy, so he stopped himself by spending all his excess energy answering emails.

Bellamy managed to catch Murphy before he took off, which was some sort of miracle considering disappearing act Murphy had managed to pull all day. He grabbed Murphy’s sleeve and tugged him gently into the office, closing the door behind them. Cradling Murphy’s face in his palms he dove forward and kissed him.

Murphy made a soft pained noise, but then he was kissing back, hungrily. It was so good being close to Murphy that Bellamy’s head spun with the closeness. Pulling back was a herculean effort and Bellamy applauding himself on being able to think with his brain instead of his dick.

Still holding Murphy close he said, “Come home with me, John.”

“I have a migraine,” Murphy said immediately, not meeting Bellamy’s eyes.

A lie, then. He couldn’t understand why Murphy would lie about something like that. The ugly, bitter part of him thought, _affair_ , but mostly he was just hurt, and he wanted Murphy to confide in him. Maybe it was a migraine, and his head hurt too much to lift his head. Murphy had gotten horrific migraines since the attack, so maybe this was just a bad one. Maybe he’d been having a string of bad headaches, an instead of being a loving and supportive boyfriend, Bellamy had just been acting like an ass.

“Your migraine meds are my place,” Bellamy finally reasoned. “And I have a big tub. Come over, I’ll run you a bath and make you some tea, and you can sleep it off, okay?”

Murphy started to shake his head, then paused, looking Bellamy in the eye. Bellamy had never believed in psychic powers, but he tried his best to convey how much he loved Murphy psychically in that moment. “For tonight,” Murphy said finally. “Just for the night.”

Bellamy didn’t know what to make of that, but the for moment he couldn’t care. He swept Murphy into his arms again and kissed him, giddy. Reassuringly, Murphy kissed him back.

Murphy latched onto his hand, interlacing their fingers, and dragged him to parking garage. The whole drive back to Bellamy’s apartment, he drove one-handed because he didn’t want to let Murphy go, even for a second. 

When they got home he put on the kettle, made them some mostly unburnt toast, found Murphy’s medicine and started a bath, before Murphy changed his mind and left. Not he would try and stop Murphy if Murphy wanted to go, but he hoped by acting like a good partner, Murphy would remember how much they loved each other and stay.

He was mostly sure Murphy still loved him, but doubt was beginning to simmer, and he never was that lucky, anyhow. The ring burned in his pocket, and he stashed it in his briefcase when Murphy wasn’t looking, determined not to propose to his partner when he had a migraine.

He found Murphy in the bathroom, naked, pretending not be interested in the wide range of bath bombs Bellamy had curated. He had turned off the lights and lit a dangerous number of candles, which was pretty common migraine procedure; less light meant a happier Murphy, and a happier Murphy meant Bellamy’s chest didn’t ache the way it had all week. Murphy looked up when he walked in and offered him a smile that was only slightly strained. “You coming in, or what, Bell?”

Bellamy laughed, flipping down the lid on the toilet to sit down. “No room for two, John. But I’ll hang out in here.”

Murphy frowned. “Please?” He rubbed absently at the scar on his collarbone, something he did when he was distracted or anxious, and it broke Bellamy’s heart.

“All right, fine, get in and make some room.”

It was tight fit, but worth to see Murphy’s face actually light up like it was meant to. Bellamy ended up lying in the tub with his feet dangling over the edge, while Murphy lay face down on top of him, face buried in Bellamy’s neck. It felt like Murphy was mouthing something there, but Bellamy couldn’t tell what, or if it was words.

Murphy’s back and ass were out of the water because the tub was only so deep, so Bellamy began carefully scooping water up and pouring it over Murphy’s back. Murphy sighed, snuggling deeper into Bellamy’s chest.

Bellamy was overcome, suddenly, by how much he loved Murphy. It spread through him like a blush, warming him from head to toes, and he wrapped his arms tighter around Murphy. Whatever was going on, they’d get through it, they had to. “I love you,” Bellamy said.

Murphy stiffened slightly and a wave of panic shot through Bellamy, before Murphy started kissing and licking his neck. It wasn’t the same as saying it back, but sometimes Murphy had issues with his words. It was easier for him to show affection sometimes, and the marks he was leaving on Bellamy’s skin certainly seemed affectionate. Murphy also knew all the places that Bellamy was weak, and leaned up to nibble on his earlobe, which caused Bellamy to get embarrassingly hard embarrassingly quickly. Murphy laughed, mocking because of course he was, squeezing a hand between them and wrapping around Bellamy’s cock.

“Wait what about you?” Bellamy asked, gasping at Murphy’s hand, but trying to think like an equal partner and not a horny teenager. He was too old for Murphy to effect him like he did.

“Later,” Murphy insisted, biting at Bellamy’s ear and jacking his slick cock off quickly in the bath. Murphy was so close, wet and squirming on top of him and being so attentive, so fixated, that Bellamy wanted to cry. Probably, he’d be able to stop himself from crying, and instead just cum all over them like someone who’d never seen the word self-control before, let alone tried to implement it.

“This is going to be over very quickly,” Bellamy said, breathlessly. 

Murphy moved his hand expertly on Bellamy’s cock, kissing and nibbling at his neck and moving his body slowly on Bellamy’s. It was too much, it was way too much, and Bellamy wanted it to last forever. He had missed this, missed the closeness and how sexy Murphy was when he was so close and focused so much on pleasure.

Bellamy blamed the fact he hadn’t gotten laid in close to a week on how quickly he came, spilling onto Murphy’s hand the bath water after a only a few minutes.

“We should get out of the jizz water,” Murphy said mildly, while Bellamy was still trying to catch his breath. Murphy was hard, he could feel it against his thigh, but if Murphy wanted to wait until they were out of the bath before Bellamy reciprocated, he was fine with that.

Appealing as Murphy was all soaking wet, Bellamy liked it best when he could see all of Murphy.

Bellamy tugged Murphy to bed, but when he started kissing Murphy’s neck, something he knew Murphy liked, he was pushed away. The unease was back, settling into Bellamy like too many coffees. Maybe he was getting an ulcer from stress, and not coffee. Maybe he should see a doctor.

“My head hurts,” Murphy said softly. “Can we just sleep?”

Bellamy really wanted to insist that they have a conversation, but he was tired, and Murphy was tired, and they’d have time in the morning. It would be fine. He cuddled close to Murphy, and Murphy let him cuddle. It was early, but they were both tired, and Bellamy could feel himself drifting when he heard Murphy speaking.

It was low and quiet, and Bellamy couldn’t quite focus with how tired he suddenly felt, but it sounded like Murphy was saying, “I love you,” over and over and over. They would talk about it in the morning, Bellamy decided. They would fix all of this in the morning.

He was surprised, then, when he woke up alone. That felt like the sort of luck that Bellamy was pretty sure he had shook when he and Murphy had finally ended up together. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe this was how Murphy was choosing to break up with him.

He could barely breathe. What if Murphy was trying to break up with him, and he’d been too busy with his proposal plots to notice? What if it was a running joke, the whole office making bets on how long it would take him to notice? 

He rolled over in bed and found a note that said, in Murphy’s surprisingly neat handwriting, “see you at work dumbass, xo.” It, surprisingly, didn’t help at all. Bellamy tried to take it as a good sign, but he was so nauseous with confusion that he couldn’t eat breakfast.

He got to work late, because he couldn’t find an outfit that made him look good. Everything made him feel stuffy and unattractive and he wanted to look handsome. If he could figure what was wrong and actually manage to propose to Murphy, he wanted to look nice and he wanted Murphy to think he looked nice, and he couldn’t help but pick apart every outfit he put on.

When he got to work, everything was quiet, which made him nervous. He passed by Clarke’s office; she was on the phone, but made eye contact with him and then made an unhappy face, which didn’t bode well.

Murphy was sitting as his desk, shoulders hunched, trying to make himself look small, with an angry sneer plastered across his face. It looked wrong, looked fake, and Bellamy hated it.

“Missed you this morning,” he said in lieu of greeting. Murphy winced. “Can we go my office and talk, please?”

“I’d really rather not,” Murphy said, all bravado and hard edges. Edges that Bellamy hadn’t seen like this in years. Murphy had always gotten sort of soft around him. Still a giant, sarcastic asshole, but also blunted.

Bellamy nodded, and tried to think of what to say to that. “Okay. Okay, I hear you, but this feels like something we should talk out and I’d rather not do it in front of everyone.” They were attracting a crowd—he could _feel_ it. He saw Clarke peek out of her office and wanted to scream.

“Just do it. You’ve kept me waiting for weeks now, and I deserve better than that, don’t I?” Murphy sounded genuinely upset under all the anger he was projecting and Bellamy couldn’t figure out why. If Murphy had caught onto Bellamy’s plan, and it seemed like he had, then why was he so upset? Did he not want to marry Bellamy? Or was he waiting for the proposal as an excuse to break up with Bellamy?

Bellamy nodded again. Regardless, it seemed like he was going to propose today, in his ill-fitting suit, nauseous and tired. “All right, fine, we’ll talk it out now, but can we please do it in my office?”

Murphy shook his head, scowling. “No. Right here, right now. Not like anyone’s going to be shocked by it.”

Bellamy had rather hoped that most of them would be shocked by it. He reached, blindly, into his briefcase and managed to nab the ring box.

“What are you waiting for?” Murphy’s voice was rising in volume, almost a yell, and Bellamy could tell the entire office was watching them now.

He dropped to one knee and brought the ring box up. He could hear gasps, but he was fixated on Murphy, who looked completely shocked. Flabbergasted, even, which is a word Bellamy thought he would never actually have an opportunity to use. “Wanna marry me?” Bellamy asked, butterflies in his stomach from worry or giddiness or both.

The ring was simple. Bellamy hadn’t been sure what to get him, but he remembered Murphy telling him that the only thing his family knew was they had Irish ancestry, and when he had seen the narrow ring with faint interlocking Irish knots he had gone for it. He wasn’t sure if it was the ring itself or his proposal, but Murphy was staring at him, open mouthed like a fish. 

“What?” Murphy said after an uncomfortably long, silent moment, in which Bellamy had time to rethink everything from the ring to his outfit to his hair.

“I asked you if you wanted to marry me.”

Murphy stood up suddenly, grabbing Bellamy by the collar, and pulled him up and into the office, slamming the door behind them. “What?” he asked again, louder this time.

Bellamy was still holding out the ring like an idiot, but he didn’t want to put it away in case that sent the wrong signal. “I thought you knew what was coming.”

“No!” Murphy yelled, throwing his arms up. “I thought you were breaking up with me!”

“What?” Bellamy took a moment to try and wrap his head around that. “Why would I want to break up with you?”

Murphy shrugged, then crossed his arms, one of them going up to rub the scar on his collarbone. “You were acting cagey. And it seemed likely. Three years? I mean come on, Bell, I’m difficult. I get that. So when you started acting all weird, I just assumed it was the beginning of the end. And then you kept inviting me to fancy restaurants, and I thought you were going to take me somewhere nice and let me down easy. I was trying to ease myself out of spending time with you. Give myself some time to adjust.”

Bellamy shook his head fiercely. “We’re going to have to have to long, boring conversations about communication later. But more importantly right now, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He held out the ring. “I’m sorry if I scared you, going out behind your back to get this; I wanted it to be a surprise, but I’m betting surprises aren’t something you really enjoy, huh?”

Murphy shook his head. He reached out slowly for the ring, then pulled back. “Can I try it on? Do you still wanna…”

“Do I still want to marry you? Of course I do. What the fuck, John, of _course_ I do. I can’t believe you’ve called me a dumbass for literal years. Years of our lives. And you thought a misunderstanding was going to keep me from marrying you? Nope. No way. If you want to marry me too, then we’re getting married, okay? End of discussion.”

Murphy barked out a laugh that sounded sort of wet. There were tears on his face, so Bellamy didn’t wait and took the ring out of the box, falling to his knee again.

“John Murphy, you complete dumbass, will you marry me?”

Murphy nodded hesitantly, then more rapidly, smile growing on his face until he was beaming. Grinning back, Bellamy slipped the ring on his finger, and holy fuck, this was real. The ring was a little loose, but nothing they couldn’t fix later. He stood up and got an armful of Murphy, who was holding him by the jacket and kissing him desperately.

After the weird couple of weeks they’d had, Murphy pulling him close and kissing him like that made Bellamy’s whole brain blue screen. He remembered that this was maybe not work appropriate behavior when he heard Clarke clearing her throat from behind them. They jumped apart like teenagers caught making out by their parents.

“Go home,” she said sternly, arms crossed over her chest.

Bellamy wiped his mouth off his sleeve and watched as Murphy did the same. He turned to Clarke wide-eyed. “Sorry we were just—”

“Going home,” she said again. She uncrossed her arms, sighing. “I’m glad you two worked this out, really, but the office is buzzing enough that productivity is pretty much out the window for today. Still, you hanging around is only going to make it worse. You both have the flu, I saw you experiencing flu symptoms, now go home. You have enough sick time, both of you. Get.”

Bellamy glanced at Murphy, but Murphy was staring at the ring, still, like if he looked away it might disappear. He turned back to Clarke and nodded. “Yeah, thank you. We are definitely sick, we’re going to go quarantine ourselves.”

Clarke nodded sharply. “Take tomorrow, too, if you need it. I’ll cover for you.” She turned around and Bellamy noticed that she had, thankfully, closed the door behind her. “And Bellamy, Murphy, congrats.” She smiled at them, then left the office, leaving the door open to a small crowd of faces, trying to look like they weren’t staring.

“Let’s go home,” Bellamy said softly and Murphy nodded, eyes still glued to the ring. “It’s not going to go anywhere.” 

Murphy turned towards Bellamy, his face splitting into a grin. “You’re gonna _marry_ me. That definitely makes you a dipshit.”

“Shut up.” Bellamy pulled Murphy out the door and into the elevator quickly, not wanting to be stopped by anyone. He wanted to get Murphy home and have a lot of celebratory sex, when he got stuck thinking about the night before. “Hey, about last night…” Murphy blushed, leaning into Bellamy’s chest to hide his face. “Was that you like, kissing me off?”

“I figured,” Murphy said quietly, muffled by his jacket, “that if that was my last time with you, I wanted it to be romantic. Something I could look back on, you know? And if you did it back, then I’d be able to convince myself you still cared about me, and I wouldn’t have tried to push you today. Wouldn’t have been able to. And I needed to do that or I was going to lose my fucking mind.”

Bellamy kissed the side of Murphy’s head, the only spot available to him. They were both idiots, but that was okay. Idiots together was definitely better than idiots apart. “We’re going to have to make up for that now.”

Murphy laughed, face still hidden. “Celebratory sex?”

“Absolutely.”

The rest of their trip was blur. Bellamy had already started pulling clothes off of Murphy while their apartment door was still swinging shut. He pushed Murphy into the chair in their room that they normally used to throw clothes on; Murphy’s absence from apartment, though, had meant that it had been empty for weeks. 

“Are we fucking on a chair?” he asked, looking up at Bellamy with a confused smile.

“It’s convenient,” Bellamy said, grinning. “Lets me pin you where I want you.” He straddled Murphy’s lap, effectively trapping him there. Murphy groaned, throwing his head back, and Bellamy took that as an invitation to bite and kiss and lick Murphy’s neck.

Murphy was half-hard at this point, and Bellamy was more so, so he rocked their hips together, wrapped his hands around the both of their cocks. Murphy hissed out a sharp breath, tangling his fingers in Bellamy’s hair.

Bellamy grinned, biting down harder on Murphy’s neck to hear him moan. He rocked his hips, stroking their cocks together slowly. Murphy squirmed beneath him.

“Please, Bell.” Murphy groaned, trying to buck his hips but unable to, pinned as he was. 

“There’s a whole side of your neck I haven’t touched,” Bellamy said with a grin, pushing Murphy’s head out of the way and switching sides. He did, obligingly, speed up his hand, though. He hadn’t seen Murphy cum in a week and he wanted to watch his partner—his fiancé—come undone for him. He grabbed ahold of Murphy’s hair with his loose hand, and used it to angle Murphy’s head so he could get at all parts of his neck, leaving marks down it like trail, marking all the spots on Murphy that he loved.

Murphy moaned. “You’re a fucking menace, Blake,” he said.

Bellamy pulled away, leaning close to kiss Murphy as he pushed him over the edge, following a second later. Murphy gasped and shook as he came, and Bellamy swallowed the all the noise, pressing his mouth to Murphy’s relentlessly.

Murphy took a long moment to catch his breath, but that was okay. Bellamy stood up and dragged Murphy to the bed, cuddling up against him like he had the night before. As he caught his breath, Murphy lifted his hand to the light, turning his hand this way and that so the ring glinted.

“It’s a good ring,” he said finally.

Bellamy hadn’t realized he was worried Murphy didn’t like it until that moment. “We’re gonna get married,” Bellamy replied.

“We are.” Murphy turned to him, grinning. “I’m going to Mr. John Dumbass.”

Bellamy hadn’t even thought about who would take the other’s name, but there was time for that. That didn’t need to be a tonight conversation. “I can still fire you.” Bellamy was grinning, though, too. 

“You won’t,” Murphy said, giving Bellamy a short peck. “I’m the best fiancé you’ve ever had.”

Bellamy wrapped an arm around Murphy, hauling him in closer. “I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Murphy was blushing, still looking at Bellamy like he hung the sun, and Bellamy couldn’t remember ever feeling this happy. “I love you, too.”

“I can’t wait to marry you,” Bellamy said, and Murphy laughed, a soft, happy noise that made Bellamy’s insides melt. They were going to do it. They were going to be happy as fuck from here on out. They had earned it.

**Author's Note:**

> if u liked this check out my other work, my tumblr (racetrackthehiggins) or buy me kofi. link at my tumblr. it's 2 in the morning im tired okay


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